Barefoot Bride for Three (7 page)

Read Barefoot Bride for Three Online

Authors: Reece Butler

Tags: #Menage Everlasting, #Menage a Quatre (m/m/m/f)

BOOK: Barefoot Bride for Three
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“Good. I’m not changing who I am just because I had to marry you.” She glanced down. “You were also forced into this.”

A finger under her chin brought her eyes back to his. “Nope. No one forces me to do anything I don’t want to. After I got my voice wrecked, I gave up on thinking about a wife. I told Simon and Jack they’d have to haul one home so the Elliott name would live on.”

“Why would your voice matter? It doesn’t change who you are.”

“That’s not what the few single women I’ve run into, and their mamas, thought.” He pushed back memories of flirting women turning pale in horror when he spoke to them. His money and name weren’t enough to make up for it when there were so many other men to choose from.

“Those same women would condemn me for having set foot in a jail, much less spending three days in a cell.”

“Frank locked you up for your own good.”

She pulled back, but he didn’t let her escape. “I was minding my own business walking past the bank when I was accosted by that horrid bully, Big Joe! I was only defending myself so why wasn’t
he
locked up, instead of me?”

“Joe works for the mayor, who might order him released immediately to go after you again. Putting you in a cell was the only way to keep you safe.”

“Your mayor would have let Big Joe marry me, condemning me to a short, horrid life. That is not right!”

Trace nodded. “Something’s strange between those two. Mayor Rivers is as smooth as
a flannel-mouthed liar but no one’s caught him out yet.” When Beth frowned, he realized this was no way to talk on his wedding night.


I told Frank I’d marry any woman to keep her from Big Joe’s fists.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckle. “Then I saw you standing nose to nose with Charlie Newton. There you were with dirty toes, scraggly hair, and an attitude bigger than Montana Territory.” He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You, Mrs. Elliott, are my kind of woman.” He grazed his thumbs against her nipples once more. A blaze lit her eyes and a moan escaped her clenched jaw.

“You’re beautiful, but that can change. I want a wife with a strong backbone. One who’ll live with her husband and his brothers and not give a damn what’s whispered in town.” He flicked her nipples again. This time she stepped closer, brushing her belly against his hard length. He bit back a needy hiss.

“Women with opinions and a fiery tongue have passion. I want that. I may not agree, but we can work it out, together.”

“You mean that? You won’t tell me to ‘hush, woman’?”

He waggled his head, debating how to answer. Truth won out as usual. “I expect I might sometimes. But that won’t stop you. I can see you got a brain and I expect you’ll use it.” He leaned close, nose to nose. “But don’t fight with me in town. A man who can’t keep his wife in line is seen as weak. I’ve never been weak. If you sass me, I’ll have to spank you.”

She reared back. “Spank me? There’s no way you’re ever going to do that!” She squeaked the words but her nostrils flared.

“I won’t have to if you behave, wife.” He purred the words, both a threat and a promise.

She pouted, her eyebrows low. He knew she’d push his limits each and every day. One day, she’d sass him in town just to see if he’d follow through. He would. He couldn’t wait to haul her across his lap and paddle her right through her dress. She’d scream bloody murder, but he’d do it, even if he had to sit on the boardwalk with his feet in the mud. As soon as he got her on Elliott land, he’d do it again. This time he’d strip her naked and use the flat of his hand on her bare bottom. She’d be soaking wet by then, desperate for him to kiss her better before plunging deep.

He closed his eyes and fought for control, pulling up memories of winter blizzards and plunging in icy spring ponds. Anything to cool the raging heat demanding he take her, hard. Now!

Only when he thought he could look at her without ripping off that scrap of nothing and thrusting her against the wall, did he speak again.

“I want you to enjoy my touch, Beth. When I enter you the first time, it may hurt a bit. I’m a big man. But I’ll pleasure you before and after.”

His speech over, he let himself look down. Her nightgown, if that see-through cloth could be called clothing, had a line of buttons down the front, all the way to her belly. Two pink peaks, each the size of the tip of his little finger, jutted toward his chest. She was his now, and he’d cherish every inch of her. Again and again.

“You like pleasure, Mrs. Elliott?”

She looked away before shyly nodding. “I like your kisses,” she whispered. A pink flush rose from her belly to her hairline. “They make me tingle.”

“I’ll make you more than tingle when I touch what’s under those buttons.” He finally let his fingers grasp her full breasts. Her moan matched his.

“Sophie said you have wicked ideas,” she gasped out. “She said you wouldn’t expect your wife to do what you did at Miss Lily’s.”
She flicked her eyes up and down like a flirt, but unintentional. “She wouldn’t tell me what she meant.”

“You give me lots of wicked ideas, Mrs. Elliott. But Sophie’s wrong.” He suckled her breast, lightly scraping his teeth as he pulled back to release her. “I expect you to learn my tricks and invent a few of your own.”

“Miss Lily gave me this nightgown.” He narrowed his eyes when a faint smile flickered around her lips. “Sophie said if you want me to wear it again you have to undo the buttons, one by one.”

His cock, already harder than an icicle in January, thickened. Dang, the woman learned fast! That was a challenge if he’d ever heard one. What was it about her that sent his temperature reeling? Was it Beth herself or the fact he had unlimited access to her voluptuous body?

He couldn’t stop the growl. He locked the door, then jammed a chair against the handle just in case. Frank Chambers said he’d keep Big Joe locked up until after they left town. While the man had no friends, there were those who wanted to get in his good books. The wooden chair might not keep them from the room, but he’d be warned if they tried to break in. He removed his gun belt and placed it on the table next to the bed.

Her color deepened with every slow step he took back to her. Though he wanted to rip the gown with both hands and dive in, she was a virgin and needed to be eased into pleasure. And he wanted to see her wear that piece of fluff in their bedroom. In daylight.

“Wine?”

She nodded, thank God. Wine on a near-empty stomach would help relax her.

Nothing would make him relax. Ever since he’d seen her, he’d been harder than a railroad spike. Even if he’d spent himself in his quick but thorough bath, he’d still be hard.

She carefully placed his flowers in a water jar. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed, then set it down. She turned and accepted the glass he held out. He sipped once, then set his wine on the table. He moved behind her, eager to touch. She trembled as he gathered her hair with his fingers. Like golden silk, it was. He couldn’t wait until she impaled herself on him and trailed it over his belly. It would ripple as she shuddered, her orgasm shattering her as she rode him like Lady Godiva.

He waited for her to finish her wine, then parted her hair and draped it forward. He followed its flow with his hands, over her breasts and down to her belly. Then he kissed the naked nape of her neck. She shivered. He nibbled, scraping his teeth gently and was rewarded with a moan. He reached around and plucked the empty glass out of her hand, setting it safely on the table.

He set to work on the buttons that ran from her chin to heaven. His thick fingers had to work hard to release the small pearls. Though he wanted to complain to Lily, she’d just laugh and say anticipation made the prize sweeter. Beth was sweet already. For each inch revealed, he rewarded himself with a taste of her creamy, pink skin.

He forced himself to go slowly, kneeling to reach the last few buttons. Her scent rose to him, rousing a beast he’d kept quiet too long. He pressed his tongue in her navel and scraped his teeth over her belly. Eyes glistening, nostrils flaring, she gazed down at him, clutching her gown closed like a shield.

“Show me,” he choked.

It took her a minute to get her balance. She stepped back, pressed the gown off her shoulders, and released it. She clenched her hands at her sides as the gauzy fabric drifted to pool at her feet.

A groan like an animal in pain filled the room.

The fire flickered over high, proud breasts. Her soft, rounded belly called to his tongue. His heart spasmed so hard he couldn’t breathe. Golden curls whisped over her pussy, tantalizing him with flashes of flesh as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Closer,” he croaked.

She lifted her foot high enough for him to see dew sparkling on swollen pink folds. He ground his teeth. She stopped, just out of his reach, and bit her lip.

“I can’t leave that beautiful nightgown on the floor.” She quickly turned and bent over to pick it up. Unknowing, she flashed him a view of paradise when her cheeks separated. A paradise he’d spend the next few dozen years enjoying. She carefully placed the nightgown over a chair and faced him again.

“Let me touch you,” he growled. “Pleasure you.”

Head down, she inched forward, toes gripping the rug, until he grasped her thighs. He encouraged her to spread her feet before him, opening her to his exploration. He leaned close until her fine hair tickled his nose. She smelled of sunshine and strawberries. A spring rain. An October thunderstorm.

Chaste and wild and wicked all at once.

His.

He rose to his feet and swooped her into his arms. She gasped and clutched him around the neck. He set her gently on the bed, knelt before her, and gazed down. Her large breasts, each dotted with a hard pink nipple, waited for him. When he gently urged her legs apart and bent his mouth to her, she shook her head and held her knees together.

“I’m your husband. You belong to me. All of you. As you do me.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I want to taste every inch of you. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

She rolled her bottom lip inside her teeth. After a moment she relaxed her thighs, closing her eyes at the same time.

He was pleased she was shy. She didn’t yet know what she wanted or how to get it. It was his job to show her the pleasure a man could give a woman. Only then would he take her maidenhead, and that, gently.

This time.

He hoped there’d be times when they’d attack each other, fighting to mount, to be mounted.
Lord, let it be soon.

He saw the thin crack between her eyelids, which proved she watched. He wanted to taste her, to make her scream his name. He stood and stripped to the waist, kicking off his boots to save time later. He knelt before the high bed, a perfect height for him. He lifted her feet and pressed the soles together so her knees spread wide, opening her up. She squeaked and fell back on her elbows but didn’t complain.

He stared at her sweet pussy. He was the first to view this beautiful sight. Her white thighs spread wide, pulling her lips with them so the lamp lit up the deep pink center. She was already wet for him, but she’d be soaking the sheets before he would enter her with his cock.

Her pussy clenched as he watched, squeezing nothing. He reached forward and pressed his finger into her, just an inch. She clenched again, her muscles holding his finger tight. He looked up, catching her watching him. She jammed her eyes shut and he chuckled.

“You’ll have more than my finger to hold soon enough, sweetheart.”

He held her thighs up with his hands and slowly approached, nosing apart her lips. Her soft hair tickled his nose. He slid his tongue between the grooves on each side of her pussy, careful to keep his moustache from her clit. When he pressed his tongue into her, he was rewarded by a soft gasp. He inhaled deeply as if to imprint her sweet, musky scent in his brain.

He teased her apart with callused fingers and flickered his tongue over her tiny clit until it rose to salute him. She twitched her bottom, rocking her hips forward. He sucked at the top junction of her pussy lips, again flicking her rapidly swelling clit. When he pressed a finger into her, more deeply this time, she thrust back, a small moan escaping.

She lay back on the bed and lifted her hips, demanding more. The position revealed her tight brown asshole. He wet his little finger with her juices and teased the tight flesh. When he gently pressed in and released, a ring of pink appeared for a moment.
Oh, yes!
Rather than clenching tight to keep him out, she’d relaxed the ring of muscle. Her reaction suggested she would receive pleasure there, as well.

Her reaction meant there’d be more options for the Elliott men to please her. Not that they wouldn’t be just as satisfied as she. But he wouldn’t think about sharing her with his brothers. Tonight was all about her needs.

He pressed two fingers inside her pussy and cupped them forward, his thumb pressing against her rising bud. She gasped and arched, thrusting hard when he repeated the action. She jerked, head flipping from side to side, hands clenched into the covers.

“Oh, yes,” she called, unaware she spoke. Unaware of what she asked for.

He smiled to himself and renewed his efforts with fingers, tongue, nose, and chin. Her soft body, so different from his own, wriggled before him as he found her special spots. She gasped and twitched, wanting more. Needing more.

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